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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24152686">The Night King</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abelschild/pseuds/Abelschild'>Abelschild</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), The Mummy (1999)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - The Mummy Fusion, Evelyn!Dany, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Frozen North, Jonerys AU, O'Connell!Jon, Romance and Adventure</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:41:00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,745</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24152686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abelschild/pseuds/Abelschild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever fascinated by the Targaryen History, Daenerys becomes interested in leading a discovering expedition beyond the Wall. She gains the help of brave Lieutenant Jon Snow, after saving him from death.<br/>Unfortunately for everyone, they just end up unleashing a curse which been laid on the dead Lord Bloodraven.<br/>Now, The Night King is awake, slowly planning his revenge, hell-bent on raining horrors upon Westeros, and above all, reunite with his eternal lover Shiera.<br/>It's going to take a lot more than guns to send him back to where he came from.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>98</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Dragonstone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Tadaaaaaaa , guess who's here? 😇</p><p>I started this fic after i obsessively rewatched "The Mummy" for like a thousand times.<br/>Comments and them Kudos are always appreciated 😊<br/>But, most importantly, i wish this would be something you'll have fun reading and following!</p><p>Characters and settings belong to G.R.R.M.</p><p>Hope you enjoy, xo</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The beginning of the end...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Prologue</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Dragonstone, a name befitting for the ancestral seat of the greatest dynasty the likes of which the world had never seen, the crown jewel of all the seven kingdoms and home of the Dragons.</p><p>An ethereal seductress, with long Targaryen silver-gold hair, stood in the balcony of the King’s chamber, her mismatched eyes –one dark blue, the other bright green- taking in the island of her fierce ancestors and settling on the horizon where night sky stars met the sea, just like her namesake.</p><p>As if she sensed his presence, she turned around giving him the most stunning sight to behold.</p><p>He sucked a ragged breath watching the most beautiful woman in all the seven kingdoms making her way towards him. Her scandalous nightgown, barely covering any sinful curves, and a mischievous smile tagging at her plump pink lips.</p><p>She took his hand in hers and guided him through the bedroom curtains, hypnotizing him with the sway of her hips. He followed willingly, heart threatening to combust out of his chest with anticipation, a pleasant buzzing in his head as if wine had washed over it</p><p>Within a beat, she had him trapped beneath her, as she straddled him and began to gyrate her warm core to his treacherous throbbing bulge, engaging them in a wild dance of dragons.</p><p>“Shiera…” He moaned as they kissed passionately, feverishly, while his hands roamed over her perfect body, desperate to relieve her of the burden of the few inches of silk.</p><p>Just as she started fumbling with the laces of his leather pants, they heard the doors to the royal quarters burst open, a bittersteel voice, frantically shouting commands and King Aegor, angrily striding in.</p><p>The Targaryen Monarch entered his private chamber, to find his mistress alone, splayed on the bed wantonly, a lustful wave bathing her dilated embers.</p><p>“ñuha jorrāelagon” Shiera purred, graciously standing and approaching him, running her delicate fingers through his black locks in an attempt of distracting him.</p><p>He surrendered to her charm and leaned into her touch for a moment, before noticing the mark on her neck and narrowing his eyes at the evident love bite smearing her marble skin.</p><p>“Who has touched you?” Aegor roared, yanking her hand away and snaking his own around her throat, choking her in blind wrath.</p><p>From behind him, his sword –Blackfyre- was ripped out of its scabbard, and he turned around, to be met with the sickening sight of his weasel half-brother.</p><p>“Brynden?” He exclaimed in fury, his dragon blood threatening another doom.</p><p>Shiera lifted a dagger and plunged it into his back, wielding it into his flesh with all the hate and resentment she felt for him.</p><p>He fell to his knees at the shuddering pain coursing through his spine, hurt and betrayal weakening his senses. His fogged eyes took in his surroundings as the bastard lifted Blackfyre and drove it into his heart, the cold steel slicing through him like tiny kisses of death.</p><p>Aegor dropped into a pool of his own blood, coughing precious Valyrian ichor and uttering his last breath.</p><p>“Curse you…” Two blurred figures stood at his head, enjoying his suffering as he screeched in agony.</p><p>“Curse you… Bloodraven” He managed to groan, before life seeped away from his purple orbs.</p><p>“You must go at once. Save yourself” Shiera said, heading for a small trunk in the corner and anxiously fumbling with its contents.</p><p>“Take them” She handed him a sack urgently.</p><p>A sack with the most precious possession in the entire continent; the last three dragon eggs to ever remain.</p><p>“Head to Volantis like we talked. Find the Red Temple” She continued “The priestesses will show you how to hatch them”</p><p>“Shiera!” He warned “Not without you my love. You said we’d do it together”</p><p>“You must leave now, they can’t find you in here” She wasn’t listening.</p><p>“No! No!” Brynden muttered in denial “Dragons be damned! Please Shiera, just come with me. We’ll go away, far away. No one would find us…”</p><p>“You are the one who was promised. You must fulfill your destiny Brynden… You will be King, I’ve dreamt it”</p><p>"I don’t want it, if… if it means losing you… Then I…” His voice came in a faint whisper.</p><p>“Look at me” She urged at his hesitant distant glare.</p><p>“Look at me!” She insisted “I have a role to play, just like everyone else. I will be brought back, I will be granted a second life to be your queen…”</p><p>Brynden’s face filled with despair as she forcefully shoved him into one of the secret passages of the ancient castle.</p><p>“The spell will work, you must trust me” She stated in full conviction “I will live to see you again, and we will take what is ours. With Fire and Blood” She planted a reassuring kiss to his lips, sealing her vow.</p><p>The hidden compartment closed at the same time the White Cloaks managed to knock the doors down and step inside the royal chambers, armed to the teeth.</p><p>Shiera turned to face them, pointed at the lifeless form of Aegor and hissed.</p><p>“Only death can pay for life” She chanted, plunging the dagger into her own heart.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>In his daze and haste, Brynden reached the shores of Dragonstone through the caves beneath the castle, his mind barely registering what had happened mere moments ago.</p><p>A small boat carried him to a nearby ship baring a silver seahorse. It belonged to the Velaryon navy, he realized. And to his bad luck, it was heading the opposite way of where his beloved urged him to go.</p><p>They hadn’t ventured far through the Blackwater, when an explosive thud sounded within the horizon.</p><p>Somehow, he knew before he even turned and let his eyes take in the horrific sight.</p><p>
  <em>Dragonstone… </em>
</p><p>The volcano had been dormant for living memory, but the scene before him spoke of angry gods casting the heavens charcoal for spilling too much precious Valyrian blood. The rumbling rage was so loud that the sky fell down, almost kissing the earth that was starved of light and clean air.</p><p><em>Shiera… </em>He felt his head pounding.</p><p>
  <em>How can the Lord of the Light bring her back, if her body is mere ashes now?</em>
</p><p><em>No!</em> His mouth opened in a silent scream.</p><p>
  <em>She was certain it would work! She had her mother’s talent with the dark arts… She said she knew what she was doing…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She believed in her god, and he has forsaken her… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She thought he’d bring her back to me, and he took her soul and body…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The fucking Lord of Light!</em>
</p><p>“R’hllor!” Brynden began to shout frantically “R’hllor! Do you hear me? What kind of god are you?”</p><p>“BRING HER BACK! BRING HER BACK TO ME THIS INSTANT!” He was yelling at the top of his lungs, red anger coursing through his veins.</p><p>“YOU WILL BRING HER BACK or I will burn down every temple build in your name. I will crucify every red priest or priestess I put my hands on, until there is no one to follow you! Until your faith is gone! Until you are gone! DO YOU HEAR ME?” He continued to defy the invisible powers they called gods, ignoring the stunned looks on the crew’s faces as if he were a mad man.</p><p>Maybe his coin had indeed landed on madness after all.</p><p>
  <em>Bastard…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sister fucker…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kinslayer…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Kingslayer...</em>
</p><p>He could hear the ghostly sounds taunting him.</p><p>
  <em>A Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing…</em>
</p><p>“R’HLLOR! I WILL END YOU! You took her away…” He sobbed, dropping to his knees and burying his face in his hands “I will end him… I will end him… I will bathe this world in so much death and darkness, that no one would find his light ever again…” He vowed, murmuring the threats over and over in a broken voice.</p><p>“I will end you like you ended our love…” A new surge of pain ripped through him at the thought of losing, her forever.</p><p>Watching the island sink in ashes and ruin, Brynden swore “I will bring her back”</p><p>“I will bring her back, if I had to become The Other himself…”</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>He kept a low profile, scouting through abandoned forests and avoiding populated towns, earning himself a single combat with a wood bear that almost gouged his eye out and left him with an ugly scar stretching from his brow to the extent of his cheek.</p><p>He was sure that word of a kinslayer with silver hair, two Valyrian steel swords, a sack of three dragon eggs and a large purse of dragonglass, must have spread like wildfire in all the seven kingdoms.</p><p>There must be a worthy bounty of gold dragons for his head.</p><p>And so he had nowhere to go, but far north.</p><p>There beyond the wall, where he heard of the magic of the Children of the Forest and their ancient incantations.</p><p>
  <em>Yes, them…</em>
</p><p>They will help him bring her back.</p><p>
  <em>My Shiera…</em>
</p><p>A paid mug of ale and a few gold dragons, earned him the loyalty of some Night’s Watchman posted at Shadow Tower. At the sight of Valyrian riches, the northern fool agreed to smuggle him beyond the Wall, and provide him with some directions towards where no other man had ventured before.</p><p>After a fortnight of battling icy storms and feeding over skinny rabbits and whatever edible wild flowers he stumbled upon in that vast freezing wasteland, Brynden found himself nearing a circular fort, built upon a hill, and rising out of the ground like a giant fist.</p><p>“I’m here…” He whispered, collapsing from exhaustion and struggling to keep his lids from indulging in an eternal sleep.</p><p>The last thing he felt, the lingering cold of a frostbite as his cheek kissed the snow, before everything went to black.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>He jerked awake all of a sudden, eyes opening like two flash beams, faster than a cat in ice-water. His limbs flexed in shock, tight ropes binding them and secured around his neck.</p><p>Without a conscious thought, a choice, he began fumbling with his restraints, his bones on the verge of snapping with the force of struggle. The retching went on for so long, he lost the remaining shaky strength he was holding on to.</p><p>Surrendering, Brynden blinked, blurriness fading, surroundings more crisp. The coldness of the air was more apparent, stealing the little warmth given by the sun, shyly shining through the grey clouds.</p><p>His half-open lids settled on an approaching silhouette, no taller than a child. Large and unsettling wide eyes studying him with curiosity. The creature had pale green skin, like they were down with some sort of plague, an apparent rough to wrinkly texture decorating its features, similar to that of plants.</p><p><em>The Children of the Forest</em> <em>!</em></p><p>He had found them…</p><p>He began to mumble incoherently, the gag in his mouth denying any words he wished to speak to them. The little ones backed away in fear, their dark irises still examining him as if to decide what to make of him.</p><p><em>I’m not here to hurt you,</em> he wanted to say.</p><p>
  <em>I came seeking your help, please…</em>
</p><p>The whiny sounds he was making, seemed to provoke them further more as they looked upon each other and took a fighting stance, ready to attack back.</p><p><em>No, no, I won’t hurt you, I promise…</em> He kept wailing.</p><p><em>Look, look, I’m unarmed</em>! His eyes fell on his belongings that were a few feet away from the gigantic tree that held him prisoner. The Children followed his gaze to where the two Valyrian steel swords laid, with the sack of dragon eggs.</p><p><em>Yes, see, unarmed…</em> Brynden tried to smile reassuringly, as one of them bend down to touch the Valyrian steel swords.</p><p>He watched as it inspected the weapons, slowly unsheathing Blackfyre and running a palm across it. The tiny creature hissed in pain, as the sword sliced through the leaf-like skin, coaxing a few droplets of indigo blood to cover the frosty ground.</p><p>They all looked at him, blank expressions plastered over their faces. They said something in hushed tunes, then continued to roam through his things.</p><p>He heard an unhuman gasp and watched as they next held the dragon eggs in their tetradactyl miniature hands, their murmurs now clearly heard, voiced in a foreign tongue that he couldn’t understand.</p><p><em>I’m a Targaryen</em>, he tried to tell them. <em>Those are dragon eggs. Targaryens are Dragonlords</em>, he wished they’d remove the gaging cloth and let him explain the reasons that drove him to barge into their territory.</p><p>He observed them as they all crouched, gathering in a circle around the sack and exchanging words in that encrypted language of theirs. After what felt like a life time, they finally stood and faced him again, not failing to notice how some of them took his belongings and strangely disappeared within the trees as if they were gates leading to another dimension.</p><p>
  <em>Where’d they go? </em>
</p><p><em>Please, untie me!</em> He moaned again, his orbs pleading with the creature that came to stand in front of him.</p><p>Attentive fingers reached out to touch his scar, running down his throat, passing by his collarbone and finally settling right above his heart.</p><p><em>Please…</em> He whimpered again.</p><p>The hand flattened on his chest, holding him still with an incredible vigour as he continued to thrash around, trying to escape his confines. His eyes widened as the Child raised the other hand, the sharp piece of dragonglass glimmering with a premonition of death.</p><p>
  <em>NO!</em>
</p><p>Cold dark eyes stared right back at him, as the obsidian met his flesh, soft and pudgy, the leafy silhouette letting a somehow satisfying squish as the tip of the glass sank deep enough to make him scream. The dragonglass twisted, all the while plundgering deeper and deeper, tearing his heart to shreds.</p><p>Convulsing and trembling like a rabid animal, he unleashed a cry that was guttural chokes mixed with an agonized roar, heated scarlet liquid squirting from his wound and tickling his skin as it travelled south, cleansing him in real Targaryen red.</p><p>The pain that once burned like fire had faded away to an icy numbness. Black filled the edges of his vision and the only thing he could hear was his own slowing heartbeat. His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps.</p><p>Seconds passed as he laid there, then, he heard voices.</p><p>Them… swarmed all around him.</p><p>Yet they were like children, naive to the darkness of the real world. The despair and suffering of the world that took everyone he held dear.</p><p>He would be joining her soon though. He would be able to leave all the pain behind.</p><p>His fragile, human heart beat one last time.</p><p>He closed his eyes, for he could die happily now.</p><p>
  <em>Shiera, my love…</em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A gold dragon for your thoughts?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Beyond The Wall</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>What happens beyond the Wall, never stays beyond the Wall.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here's a treat 😊</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Three Thousand Years Later…</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Across the scorching frozen land of always winter, two hundred sellswords scurry through the ruins of the Fist of the First Men, preparing for the onslaught.</p><p>Lieutenant Snow is up on the highest ground, his kepi at a jaunty angle, hands frantically loading his arm as he looks at the massive horde of rangers galloping their direction and ready to crush them like waves breaking upon the shore.</p><p>“I knew this was gonna be a lousy day” Jon says as he makes his way across the forsaken ruins, realizing that they are most likely succumbing towards their inevitable death.</p><p>Daario follows at his tails, like the shit coward everyone knows him to be, eyes widening at the severity of their situation as he continues his whinging “Personally, I would like to surrender. Why can’t we just surrender?”</p><p>Jon glares daggers at him, flinching as he studies his companions, fear seeping from their glassy eyes.</p><p><em>Their courage is already hanging by a thread</em>, he thinks to himself.</p><p>“Shut up and gimme your bandolier” He orders at once.</p><p>Daario unbuckles his cartridge belt and hands it over, begging him yet one more time “Let’s run away, Snow. Right now, while we can still make it. No one said anything about one thousand men guarding this ice hell! These fuckers are about to swamp us”</p><p>“Aye, they have the numbers” Jon says calmly while crisscrossing his own bandolier “Now gimme your revolver, you’ll never use it anyway”</p><p>Daario pulls out his pistol and chucks it without hesitation into the waiting hand of the young commander “Then let’s play dead huh? Nobody ever does that anymore, it might work…”</p><p>Jon chuckles and slides the weapon into his belt, next to his own revolver “Daario! Now go find me a big stick”</p><p>“In this frozen wasteland? What for?”</p><p>He turns and goes nose-to-nose with him “So I can tie it to your back, you appear to be without a spine”</p><p>He then starts running through the half-length wall of the ruin, making sure soldiers are rightfully positioned.</p><p>“How’d a guy like you end up in the Golden Company anyways?” Jon throws the question over his shoulder to the Tyroshi shadowing him.</p><p>“I got caught defiling a maid in the Red Temple. Lots of good stuff happen in them holy places, I’m tellin’ ya”</p><p>“You fucked a red priestess?” Jon asks, disbelief coating his voice “Aren’t they bound to only serving their Lord?”</p><p>“And their Lord they surely serve… in the most… exotic of manners if I may say” Daario nudges him knowingly “It was either this or burn alive. Obviously I wasn’t ready to die, not yet anyway, so here I am. How about you Snow? Kill somebody?”</p><p>“No” Jon gives him a nasty look “But I’m considering it now” He adds suggestively while descending down the stone ramp.</p><p>“What then? Robbery? Extortion? Kidnapping?”</p><p>“None of the above, thank you” Jon answers impatiently, eyes narrowing at the enclosing danger.</p><p>“Then what the hell are you doing here?”</p><p>They both skid to a stop at the front line as they see the horde of warriors thundering forward, the force of charging horses and the sound of drawn steel sending jolts of excitement through Jon’s veins.</p><p>He gives Daario a big cheesy smile and answers sheepishly “I was just looking for a good time”</p><p>Suddenly, their Colonel Harry Strickland panics, curses and drops his weapon, shamelessly leaving them behind as he flees away, dragging his feet through the heavy layers of snow. Their so-said-Captain humps on the first mount he encounters and simply vanishes into the mist of whatever lies beyond.</p><p>“Looks like you just got promoted” Daario whispers as he watches the dramatic retreat.</p><p>Jon instantly stiffens “Shit!” He hisses and turns his attention back to his men.</p><p>“STEADY!” He orders them in his most commanding tone.</p><p>But onward comes the horde like famished ravens unleashed upon rotten flesh.</p><p>“STEADY!” Jon urges again.</p><p><em> What do we say to the God of death?</em> He reminds himself.</p><p>Their foes let loose with barbaric screams. <em>‘<strong>For the Watch</strong>’</em>, he hears them chant.</p><p>More sellswords haul-ass following in their Captain’s footsteps. He titles his head slightly to see Daario taking off amongst them.</p><p>
  <em>That cunt!</em>
</p><p>“STEADY!!” He shouts once more.</p><p><em>Not Today…</em> He tries to steel himself.</p><p>The cartridge in his mouth suddenly snaps, he spits it into the frost and locks eyes with their death bringers. And then…</p><p>“FIRE” He screams at the top of his lungs.</p><p>The soldiers on the ground are only too eager to comply as their rifles report with a crash. The blast blows dozens of Night’s Watchmen clean off their mounts and the prone men in golden armor quickly begin to reload.</p><p>“FIRE” Jon says again, as he targets more of their enemies and watch them spin off their horses and bite the snow.</p><p>The remaining warriors plow into the ruins and through the rest of them. Thunder and smoke and the smell of blood ripping through the thick air.</p><p>Jon grabs the barrel of his rifle and starts clubbing riders off their steeds, fighting like a man possessed. Fire and heat coursing through his body, a far-cry contrast to the unyielding northern wind.</p><p>He throws his rifle and goes for his guns, cross-drawing one in each hand and starts blowing riders off.</p><p>Not far away, Daario is belly crawling across the crimson-watered milky tapestry, whimpering in full agony as he watches men fall dead all around him. He spots an open cave doorway amongst the rocks, and shrieks in delight as he gets up and sprints for safety while the last of his fellow sellswords fall into an eternal sleep.</p><p>“Son of a bitch” Jon mutters under his breath as his guns go empty, leaving him defenseless.</p><p>He turns and runs like hell, right out of the ruins as four black-leathered warriors on massive stallions chase after him. He hurdles a stone column, hits the ground running and his eyes catch Daario inside the doorway, trying to close the heavy crystallized door.</p><p>“Hey, Daario! Wait up!” He heads in the direction of his companion who seems to have no intention of indulging his request.</p><p>“Whatcha’ doin’? For fuck’s sake, wait up!” Jon runs faster as the Tyroshi continues to ignore him and pushes the door harder.</p><p>The four Horsemen leap the big column and charge after him.</p><p>“Don’t close that door! DON’T YA CLOSE THAT DOOR!” Jon slams his body into the cold stone as he finally reaches the way to salvation, only to be met with a hard rock icy gate that won’t budge.</p><p>“You fucking bastard! I’m gonna get you for this” He lets out a shaky breath as his shoulder shudders in pain from the harsh clash.</p><p>Jon turns and bolts off around the rocks, running for his life, weaving through the ruins. The riders with his death sentence getting closer and closer. The pounding hoofs getting louder and louder. He finally spins around and faces his attackers. The four massive horses crash to a stop in front of him and the vicious rangers raise their swords to finish him off.</p><p>He just stands there, exhausted and beaten, then he slowly lifts his right hand and gives them the bird.</p><p><em>Fuck it!</em> <em>You had a good run, Snow…</em> He thinks as he closes his eyes and accepts his fate.</p><p>Just then, the horses go restless, all four of them rear up, they screech and snort in fear, bucking like fury and running away as if the devil himself showed them his claws.</p><p>Jon watches the mayhem with one open eye, then he lifts his right hand and checks his middle finger, chuckling as he struggles to believe how close he has come to meeting his end.</p><p>In his daze, he turns around to find a gigantic tree with red rubies of leaves and a crying face carved to its trunk, staring back at him. His little dance of victory comes to a halt and he can feel an evil, more ancient that any bone left in the soil, clutching his very soul.</p><p>The winds begin to blow, coaxing the deadly silence into a horn announcing a storm, the fog seeps all around, trapping him in a poisonous suffocating embrace, he senses shadows in the dark and cold blue stares burning right through him like a thousand icy spears.</p><p>He starts to back away, keeping his eyes on the maleficent tree as tears of blood begin to sail down the demonic figure.</p><p>Jon sucks in a shocked breath, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest, as his grey orbs take in the horrific sight.</p><p><em>Not Today…</em> <em>Not Today…</em> He chants like a mantra as he commands his feet to flee the scene, urging them to carry him away from the haunted land and into the wildness of the unknown.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Up on the Wall, Lord Commander Mormont stands close to the edge, stormy eyes observing the lands bathed in frost and the secrets they hold, slowly drowning into a sea of night darkness.</p><p>“It’s done Father, they’re gone. We burned all the bodies we could find” The voice of his son interrupts his ragged thoughts.</p><p>“And the Creature?” Jeor asks, still facing away.</p><p>“No sign of him” Ser Jorah answers as he comes to join him, face and clothes still baked with mud and blood from the battle “Only the spiral mark of chopped limbs again, near the Weirwood tree”</p><p>The lord commander nods his head and confines to the solitude of his troubled mind.</p><p>
  <em>I know you are lurking somewhere out there… </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What are you waiting for? </em>
</p><p>A mixed sense of guilt and failure creeps under the old man’s skin, as he lets out a long exasperated sigh remembering all he had to do to keep the secret threat from ever breaching the Wall.</p><p>
  <em>Thousands and thousands of Wildlings, diminished to a mere extinct community, somewhere near Hardhome… </em>
</p><p>He never liked spilling the blood of innocents. But it was what his duty bids; terrible, but necessary.</p><p><em>Better killed and burned, then turned to Wights… </em>He reasons.</p><p>
  <em>But these sellswords are not Wildlings. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Nor are they innocent!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>They’re motherless bastards driven by greed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Only gods know what business brought them to Westeros and what madness drove them this far north…</em>
</p><p><em>Rifles and gun powder instead of an honorable clash of steel…</em>The old bear sneers internally.</p><p>
  <em>Regardless…</em>
</p><p><em>The Night’s Watch stood for thousands of years,</em> <em>and it will continue to do so.</em></p><p>
  <em>We will not fail, not now, not ever.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>We are the shield that protects the realms of men, for this night and all the nights to come.</em>
</p><p>He vows all over again.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I wanna see them comments raining 👇</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Pentos</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Evy and Jona... oh I mean Dany and her brother make an appearance 😅<br/>And keep in mind they have no idea they're descendants of Targaryens … no one really does!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Pentos, one of the many Free Cities of Essos, the pearl of the western coastline, and home of the wealthy merchant Illyrio Mopatis.</p><p>His manse, a castle so old the stars have actually changed their positions in the sky since its birth, is teeming with every form of life as olds and youngs equally scrabble around preparing for the Horselord’s arrival.</p><p>Daenerys looks out of the library’s window and rolls her violet eyes at the extravagance of the welcome, not that the savage would appreciate it anyway.</p><p>
  <em>There isn’t even a word for ‘Thank you’ in their language. </em>
</p><p>She smirks as she straightens her long boring skirt, adjusts her glasses and turns back to the rows upon rows of towering bookshelves, filled with songs of charming princes and deeds of brave knights.</p><p>She climbs the ladder back to where she had stopped before she got distracted by the false alarm of sounding horns. She pulls a book from a stack under her arm, blows the dust off it and places it on the shelf with other volumes whose titles all begin with A.</p><p>“Aegon the Conqueror, Aegon the II, Aegon the III, Aegon the Unworthy, Aegon the V…” She recites as she grabs the next one and frowns “Maegor the Cruel? Maegor? M, M… Hmmm, now, how did you get up here?”</p><p>Carefully, as to not lose her balance, she looks over her shoulder to the bookshelf behind her, where other books coded with the letter M were neatly organized. She looks down, contemplating whether she should just go all the way to the bottom, place the book in its right place, then comeback all the way up to continue with her work.</p><p>Making her choice, Daenerys turns and starts to gingerly reach across the aisle with the book in question “Come on… almooooost there” She says as she stretches, holding the top of the ladder with her fingertips.</p><p>She’s almost got it when the ladder pulls away from the shelf, making her yelp in surprise. She flings the book and grabs the ends of the wooden artifact, which stands straight up now.</p><p>“Oh God… Oh God…” She mutters under her breath, swaying precariously and clinging to the ladder so hard that her knuckles turned white.</p><p>After a short moment of found peace, she calms down, and starts tiptoeing the ladder back to its initial position, but it looks as if the stiff object has got a will of its own as it somehow slides into the main aisle and picks up speed.</p><p>Daenerys screams as it does a full spin and finally crashes to a stop at the top of a bookshelf. She holds her breath as she quickly slides down and plops the floor, exhaling in obvious relief when nothing seems to happen.</p><p>Suddenly, the bookshelf falls away and bumps into the next one, she looks up just as the domino effect kicks in; each bookshelf taking down its neighbor, thousands of volumes flying off shelves and scattering across the floor. It finally ends as the last shelf forcefully meets a wall.</p><p>She opens one eye, looking left and right then opens the other one, letting her amethyst embers roam the chaos.</p><p>
  <em>Magister Illyrio is going to kill me!</em>
</p><p>As if on cue, the fat oaf storms in, the clashing sound of his golden necklaces announcing his unmistakable presence “What? How? Would you look at this! … In the name of R’hllor! Give me The Long Farewell, Tears of Lys, Wolfsbane, anything but this! Compared to you, the other poisons are a joy!”</p><p>She quickly gets up and starts gathering books “I’m so very sorry Magister, it was an accident” She says, never taking her eyes from the ground.</p><p>“An accident? My girl, when the doom of Valyria happened, that was an accident. You… you are a catastrophe! Why do I put up with you?”</p><p>Daenerys turns to face him, trying to contain herself, her anger bubbling right beneath the surface of her smooth pale skin “You put up with me, because…I… I can read and write in several languages including High Valyrian, all dialects of low Valyrian, Dothraki, and the Common Tongue of Westeros, I …can decipher inscriptions of the First Men and Children of the forest, and you know what? I’m the only person within a thousand miles who knows how to properly code and catalogue this nest of scrolls you call library!”</p><p>“I put up with you simply because your brother Rhaegar was one of our finest patron, may the Lord of Light rest his soul” Illyrio sighs “I don’t care how long it takes, I don’t know how you’re going to do it, but straighten up this mess! NOW!” He orders before walking away, mumbling all sorts of curses as he disappears from sight in a pool of silk.</p><p>She just stands there, steaming with rage, and barely holding the tears of frustration burning at the bay of her eyes. She lets a sob escape her as she turns on her heels and heads to the only place that can give her solace.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>“For the night is dark and full of terrors…” Daenerys whispers finishing her prayer, letting out a long pained breath.</p><p>She hears a noise and her puffy red eyes snap open to look around, jumping to her feet at once.</p><p>“Hello?” She asks, swallowing the knot in her throat as she is met with a creepy silence. Just then, she hears it again, like feet slowly shuffling across the floor, coming from deep inside the temple.</p><p>“Melisandre? Is that you?” She asks again, grabbing a torch and following the ghostly sounds.</p><p>It’s very dark and quiet where she walks, the only light is from the flickering fire in her grasp.</p><p>Statues of the Red God, human and otherworldly stare back at her while she passes by these lifeless figures. She tries to focus on the way ahead rather than giving up to the paralyzing fear.</p><p>Inching closer to the end of the holy chamber, she hears the noise again, faint whispers and mumbled chants carried away by the thick air, she freezes in her ground and swallows hard as her knees lock in terror.</p><p>“Are you here to serve the Lord’s will, fair maiden?” The booming voice screeches at her, making her scream at the top of her lungs and drop the torch as she backs away, scared out of her wits.</p><p>Coming from behind a statue in the corner, she hears a man laughing. Her eyes narrow as a foppish cad, crawls out of the darkness, laughing his ass off, half drunk.</p><p>“You…! You…!” Daenerys shouts madly as she detects the unmistakable silver of his hair.</p><p>“Drunkard? Fool? Rat-bastard? Please call me something original” Viserys smirks, as he leans to pick up the torch and lights his cigar, arrogantly puffing the smoke right into the statue’s stony face.</p><p>“Have you no respect for the gods?” She hisses, clenching the rattling poison from his mouth and tossing it to the ground.</p><p>“Right now, I only wish they’d put me out of my misery. Oh Lord of Light, cleanse my soul, burn me alive, for death by fire is the purest death” He grins drunkenly, earning himself a hard punch right to the chest.</p><p>“Well I wish he’d do it sooner rather than later, before you get us thrown out of the city and escaping to the next one, just like you did back in Myr and before that in Volantis. And judging by your thriving career, I’d say we have a fortnight before we starve in the streets”</p><p>“My dear, sweet, baby sister, I’ll have you know, that at this moment my career is on a high note” He belches, then falls back and sits on the edge of a staircase.</p><p>“High note? Ha! For five years you’ve been scrounging on and off Westeros, and what have you to show for it? Nothing”</p><p>Viserys smugly starts scrounging around in his jacket “Oh yes I do. I have something right here”</p><p>“Oh no, not another worthless trinket, Vis! If I have to translate one more junk letter to the Common Tongue, I’ll…” She stops in her tracks seeing Viserys pulling out some form of volcanic glass.</p><p>Daenerys reaches to grab it out of his hands, curiosity flying out of her lavender orbs “Where did you get this?”</p><p>Her brother gives her a mischievous smile, knowing he pulled the right string of weakness “On a dig, down in the Crownlands”</p><p>He watches her with anxious eyes, licking his lips in anticipation “My whole life I’ve never found anything, Dany tell me I’ve found something”</p><p>Daenerys’ fingers play with the precious stone examining it, mumbling to herself as she tries to tickle her memory and remember in which book she might have come across something similar.</p><p>
  <em>I know I’ve read about it somewhere…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Valyrian gemstone was it?</em>
</p><p>Her eyes suddenly widen in realization “Vis?”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“I think you found something”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Magister Illyrio sits at his desk, staring at the unusual jewel while Daenerys frenziedly hovers behind him.</p><p>“The Maesters in Westeros call it obsidian. It is the frozen fire of Old Valyria, zīrtys perzys. Dragonglass, I’m sure of it” She says excitedly.</p><p>“Perhaps…” The pentoshi responds unimpressed.</p><p>Viserys leans in from across the desk and enquires “Two questions. What the hell is dragonglass? And does it have any actual value?”</p><p>“It is some sort of ancient precious stone. It was what dragonlords used to decorate their weapons with, said to be the secret to their wealth” Daenerys explains, amused.</p><p>“Alright, good, that’s good. I like this dragon stuff, like it very much” Her brother grins sheepishly.</p><p>“I’ve already dated it, this stone is almost three thousand years old. And… well, if my readings are to be believed, then…” She inhales deeply “It is around the same time Targaryens ruled over Westeros”</p><p>“Are we talking about <em>the</em> Targaryens?” Viserys interjects.</p><p>“Yes, the greatest dynasty there ever was, generation after generation of dragon riders” Daenerys says passionately.</p><p>Illyrio chuckles and sends her a sneering look “My dear child, don’t be ridiculous, you aspire to become a Maester, not a Wetnurse. Dragons are a myth”</p><p>“But we are looking at dragonglass here” She gestures towards the obsidian “This means everything mentioned within History records and High Septons’ private journals was true, down to the last drop of ink, it was all true! The incantations of Old Valyria, the magic, the Valyrian steel, the… dragons. All of it was real!” She argues, her eyes narrowing in defiance.</p><p>“Magic you say…” The pentoshi merchant snorts in laughter “Tell me dear child, if Targaryens knew the secret to forging Valyrian steel, then why isn’t there a single sword to prove it, hmm?” He asks scoffing.</p><p>“And don’t you think the Conqueror would have indulged himself with a fancier throne out of this magical steel of yours, or this ancient dragonglass rather than a pile of cheap metal, eaten by rust as it wastes away in the Red keep?” Illyrio pushes further.</p><p>“The iron throne was a symbol of power Magister. It was made out of the swords of Aegon’s fallen enemies, fashioned with the breath of Balerion, the Black Dread himself” Daenerys rolls her eyes at his ignorance.</p><p>Irritated she proceeds “As for the Valyrian steel, I did read that there were only two ancestral swords of House Targaryen; and well we all know there was a long history of bad blood for that ugly iron chair. Such artifacts do tend to get stolen or lost during rebellions”</p><p>“And dragons?” He asks mockingly “Were they stolen as well? Oh yes! I’m sure I can fit one right here in my coin purse”</p><p>“Well…the dragons…” She stammers a bit, organizing her thoughts “Targaryens believed their dragons to be their children, and when they died, they had a ritual of sending their skeletons home, to Dragonstone. Maybe everything was wiped away when the volcano erupted and destroyed the island… Or maybe...” He cuts her off,</p><p>“Dear God, you are delusional” Illyrio chuckles in disbelief “Many men have wasted their lives in the foolish pursuit of Targaryen legacy, no one has ever found anything, not a single hint that what you speak of ever existed, not on Dragonstone, not in Summerhall, not in the Red keep itself. Now, listen to me girl, it was mere chance that had those shepherds escape the doom of Valyria, and it was the same sheer dumb luck that had them rule over Westeros, until the gods saw it fit to punish them for their inbreeding and incestuous abominations. The great empire fell into ashes and ruin, the line of kings was long broken and the last dragonspawn perished in exile centuries ago, doing the kindness of sparing us all of their ridicule madness” His voice baths in repugnance “It is as the Westerosi would say: House Targaryen is gone”</p><p>She bites on her lip to keep from surrendering to her demons and choke him with the girly perls decorating his neck.</p><p>“I’m sure this gem you call dragonglass is a fake anyway. I’m surprised at you Miss Rogare, to be so easily fooled. But you are obviously losing your wits, lass. This is what happens when women tend to read and know things, when all they really have to do is to be pretty and silent” He reaches for the obsidian but she angrily snatches it away and gives him a very angry look.</p><p>“All right shush…Don’t waste my time with your daydreaming” He dismisses bluntly, barely sparing her a second glance “Khal Drogo is to be here by sunset. Make sure to be at the gates when he does, I did promise him a translator after all”</p><p>He then gives Viserys a venomous glare and hisses “And get this drunk excuse you have for a brother out of my manse, he stinks of brothel”</p><p>Daenerys is by the door of the study, when she finds her voice and suddenly speaks “A ship Magister, that’s all I’m asking for”</p><p>“A what?” The fat man stops midway through popping a grape into his eager mouth “What need have you of a ship?”</p><p>She turns, her violet eyes shining with determination “To sail for Westeros of course”</p><p>“And do tell girl. With what money do you plan to pay for your travel expenses?” Illyrio raises an eyebrow.</p><p>“If I find what I seek, you will be paid in Tenfold. And if I don’t…” Daenerys chews on the insides of her cheeks for a moment and continues “Well, if I don’t then you’ll be rid of me for however long my adventure across the narrow sea might take. Perhaps I’d even die on my quest and you won’t have to see my face ever again”</p><p>Her lips carve into a clever smart as she knows she has just presented him with an offer he wouldn’t resist.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading 😊</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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